


Simple Physics

by cmonlauraweremarriednow



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Fluff, New Year's Eve, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-03-06 05:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmonlauraweremarriednow/pseuds/cmonlauraweremarriednow
Summary: On New Year's Eve 1991, two FBI agents have a chance meeting that changes everything.





	Simple Physics

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-Pilot AU, possible explanation for why Mulder is such an condescending ass to Scully in the first episode. 

_Tuesday, December 31, 1991 10:32 PM_

The staccato clack of stilettos on tile floor echoes through the empty basement corridor of the Hoover Building. Dana Scully hurries down the hall, the train of her dress in one hand and the files she had spent the last two hours digging through the FBI Archives for clutched in the other. It was supposed to be just a quick stop before the party, but locating the files had taken frustratingly longer than expected and the more she could not find what she was looking for, the more she had become determined to find it. It was a conspiracy of the filing cabinets, she was certain, and finding them had become a personal vendetta, even if it had made her so very, very late. She just needed to get to the parking garage, so she could get in her car and finally be on her way, before she incurred any more tardiness-induced wrath upon her. She reaches the end of the hallway and jams the ‘up’ button, mentally urging the car to arrive faster. The doors finally slide open and she slips inside, finger on ‘door close’, trying to calm her pulse, foot tapping impatiently.

“Hold the door!” an unfamiliar voice shouts down the hall, heavy footsteps growing louder.

Scully groans and jabs at the ‘door open’ button, her military upbringing of unfailing politeness winning out over her desire to get out of there. A large male hand clamps over the sliding metal door.

“Thanks,” her newfound elevator companion shoots her a smile. Adonically lanky with floppy hair and oversized wire rim glasses perched on an aquiline nose, he is dressed in a rumpled white button-down with a wide, garish tie hanging loosely round his neck, forest green patterned with orange triangles. A grey wool trench coat is tossed over his arm.

“Sure thing, ground floor?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The elevator shutters to life and slowly begins its ascent. It barely clears the first floor when it lurches to an abrupt stop with a precarious creak. A startled yelp emerges from Scully as she grasps for the wall railing to stay upright. The lights flicker and suddenly plunge the tiny car into darkness. After a few moments, the sallow emergency backup lights stutter on.

Scully pulls the elevator emergency phone from its case, stabbing at the red help button to no avail; the line is dead.

“Damn it!”

“Somewhere important to be?” he drawls bemusedly, slowly trailing his eyes down her body.

She is wearing an exquisite cobalt dress with an open back cut down almost to the base of her spine. The top of the dress cuts modestly across her chest and the thin straps hug her shoulders before crisscrossing the smooth pale skin of her back. The fabric shimmers when she moves and the flowing train brushes the top of her feet encased in silver pointy heels that bring her almost to the height of his nose. She shifts uncomfortably under his heated gaze, feeling naked and exposed. She crosses her arms across her chest, causing the creamy rise of her cleavage to swell. This does not escape his notice.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” she rejoins archly. At his non-response, she prattles to fill the awkward silence. “I was supposed to be meeting Ethan over an hour ago and he’ll be waiting with no idea where I am and I have no way of contacting him and I should have just left these stupid files until Thursday but no, I just had to have them tonight because God forbid I don’t do any work and actually relax on my vacation and now it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m stuck in a basement elevator with…with…” she gestures helplessly, realizing she had never asked his name.

“Mulder. Fox Mulder,” he supplies helpfully, looking even more bemused.

Fox Mulder. She knew that name; everyone did. The golden boy of the Violent Crimes Section, his profiling skills had earned him the nickname “Spooky” at the academy.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m insane.” She places her head in her hands with a soft groan of embarrassment, fair skin reddening. Here she is, trapped in an elevator with the infamous Spooky Mulder and somehow she manages to be the crazy one.  

_Way to go, Dana. Make a fool of yourself in front of an attractive elevator stranger. Attractive? You have a boyfriend, Dana. A boyfriend who is probably freaking out right now because he doesn’t know where you are._

_10:36 PM_

Fox Mulder cracks a sunflower seed between his teeth and smiles down at his tiny elevator partner, suddenly finding himself distracted by the escaped curls from the chignon on the nape of her neck. His long fingers twitch as he fights the urge to brush them back. He’d intended for his question to be entirely innocuous, but he’d be lying if he said wasn’t enjoying watching her stumble over herself like a baby bird, all fluff and innocence.

His smile fades when she turns her face to look up at him. He’s taken aback by the sheer fierceness of the blue flame, exactly the same hue as the gown that sheathed her lithe body.

“I’m Dana Scully. It’s nice to meet you, Fox.”

He meets her proffered hand, unable to tear his eyes from her crimson lips as they slide over the syllables of his detested first name.

_F-O-X_

He almost jerks his hand back at the first touch of her skin on his. He could swear he’s been burned. Was the audible crack of static electricity between them simply a result of the dry winter air or something more?

“Likewise” He swallows hard.

Scully reluctantly drops her hand and her eyes from his. There’s only so long you can keep someone you just met in a polite handshake before it turns into impolite hand holding. She steps back into the corner, awkwardly staring at her feet, unsure of what to say next, silence blooming in the space between them. Did he feel it too? That spark between them? Had it been all in her head?

“So, who’s Ethan?” Mulder’s voice snaps her from her reverie. She lifts her head to find him still fixing her with that bemused gaze, all bright eyes and pouty lips twisting their way around another seed.

“He’s…um…my…uh…boyfriend.” The expression on his face doesn’t change, but Scully is sure she sees a flash of disappointment darken his eyes. “He’s a journalist.”

“Oh…that’s nice.”

_Really Mulder? ‘That’s nice’? An Oxford education and esteemed psychology degree and that’s the best you can do?_

That uncomfortable silence fills the elevator car again.

 

_10:45 PM_

“Maybe we should try the phone again?” Mulder offers. His long body leans across her to pick up the emergency phone and Scully finds her eyes drawn to the wide planes of his shoulders stretching under his dress shirt. “Nope. Nothing.”

“Shit”

He’s suddenly standing much closer to her than he had before, so close she could reach out and touch his chest. Which she will not do. Because he is an elevator stranger. And she has a boyfriend.

“Don’t worry; I’m sure someone will be along soon to fix it. Unless a shadowy government agent cuts the cable and we plunge to our death first,” he monotones.

The lack of humor in his voice gives her the unsettling impression that he’s not joking.

“Somehow I think we’d probably survive the one floor drop,” she retorts, tipping her chin to look at him. “And besides, despite what all your action hero movies may tell you, it’s nearly impossible for an elevator to plummet in freefall. Elevator cables are regularly inspected and rarely break and even if they did almost all elevators have at least four cables, one of which is strong enough to hold up the entire car. And say your shadowy government agent somehow managed to cut all the cables, there are breaking systems activated by a mechanical speed gauge, which clamp the rails the run down the inside of the shaft. And if this nefarious villain somehow destroyed the safeties too, the friction from the shaft rails and air pressure underneath the car would greatly decrease the speed until you ultimately hit the built-in shock absorber that would cushion the impact at the bottom of the elevator shaft. It’s simple physics, really.”

His lips twitch of their own accord.  _Of course, simple physics indeed._ He likes women who know things.

She finishes her diatribe to find him staring at her with that frustrating smile again. She hates it. She hates how it makes her cheeks burn and stomach flip.  _There you go again, Dana, just rambling on for no reason. Again.  If he didn’t think you were a freak before, he certainly does now. Maybe you should be the one they call “Spooky”._

“So I shouldn’t jump right before we hit the ground?”

“Only if you want broken bones.”

He wonders what else she knows.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to keep me in one piece then.”

He wonders what she knows about chemistry.

“I guess so.”

Mulder pulls back abruptly and clears his throat, moving to lounge against the elevator railing, long arms stretched to either side of him, not meeting her eyes.

 

_10:55 PM_

Scully eases down into the corner and pulls the heeled shoes from her feet with a slight wince. They are not the most comfortable of shoes, but they are gorgeous and when she had seen them in the store window, she couldn’t resist them. Besides, Melissa is always telling her she lacks a sense of whimsy and that a bit of impulsivity is good for a person.

An unexpected shiver courses through her. She had been so distracted fighting off the inappropriate thoughts featuring the attractive elevator stranger, she hadn’t noticed the dropping temperature.

“Are you cold?” Mulder asks, staring down at her from his perch, brow furrowed in concern.

“Oh no,” another shiver interrupts her nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine.”

Mulder extends his coat to her. “Here, take this. I’m not using it.”

“No, I couldn’t. I’m sure you’ll want it eventually. I’m fine, honestly. It’s my own fault, really, for leaving mine in the car. I wasn’t expecting to be here this long.”

“Take it,” he insists with a teasing smile. “Before your lips turn blue.”

_Unless you want me to warm you some other way… damn it, Mulder. Who are you, Frohike? Pull yourself together. She has a boyfriend._

He crouches down and drapes the coat across her back, his hand lingering on her shoulder longer than necessary. It engulfs her petite frame and she shifts infinitesimally closer to him under the pretense of drawing the coat tighter around her herself. He pretends not to notice. It’s warm from his body and smells like him, dark and woodsy and undeniably masculine.

She smiles gratefully up at him before dropping her eyes, inexplicably shy, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” If his New England upbringing had taught him anything, it was how to be a gentleman. He sits down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

 

_11:02 PM_

“So…what are you reading?” Mulder gestures to the file in her lap. “Anything good?”

“Cadaveric heat rigor in cases of self-immolation”

“That sounds like cheery holiday reading. Certainly gives a new meaning to ‘chestnuts roasting on an open fire’.”

Scully laughs; Mulder decides in that instant that it’s something he needs to hear again.

“I’m a medical doctor. I did my residency in forensic medicine and now I teach at the Academy.”

“A doctor?” She nods at him and he leans over to whisper lowly in her ear, “So, Dr. Scully, have you ever performed an alien autopsy?”

She laughs again, even louder this time, the sound reverberating in the small metal car. His stomach somersaults and he grins over at her. Yeah, he really likes that sound. He wasn’t kidding about the autopsy though.

 

_11:14 PM_

Mulder shifts uncomfortably on the hard ground of the elevator car. The chill that had settled in the car shows no signs of abating and the temperature continues to drop. He hunches his shoulders against the goosebumps scattering down the slope of his neck.  

“See? I knew you be cold eventually,” Scully ribs lightheartedly.

“Me? Cold? Nah. I’m far too manly to be taken down by something as insignificant as a minute drop in temperature,” he declares.

Scully rolls her eyes at him, reaching out a finger to trail the goosebumps on side of his neck in proof. He shivers, but not from the chill of the air.

“Uh huh. You can save the macho act for another time, Fox. It’s only going to get colder as the night goes on. I might be a doctor, but I can’t bring you back from the dead if you freeze to death,” she smiles. “Come on, we can at least share the coat.”

Scully slides the coat from her shoulders and moves closer to him, her thigh resting along the length of his. She spreads it across their laps, but quickly realizes it isn’t large enough to cover both of them. She wraps her arms around her top half, now exposed to the cold air. Mulder looks over at her, feeling slightly guilty that he’s the reason she’s no longer snuggly and warm. The sight of her wrapped in his clothes did things to him. Inappropriate things. Things one should not be thinking about a girl with a boyfriend.

Slowly, cautiously, as if to gauge her reaction, he reaches his arm around her and rubs his large hand up and down her thin upper arm, shifting her even closer. She goes completely still, but doesn’t move away.

“Jesus, your skin is still like ice,” he chuckles, the friction increasing between them.

“Yeah…”

Scully sighs almost imperceptibly and her eyes slide closed a hair longer than a blink should last. His warmth feels so good against her; she wants to bury herself in it.

Mulder rotates his upper body and opens his arms to her wordlessly, his eyes reflecting a silent invitation. Scully hesitates, unsure of the proper social protocol of such a situation and unsure of how it makes her feel.

“Just for warmth,” she clarifies in the sternest doctor voice she can manage.

She crawls into his lap and he pulls her into his chest, tucking her head snuggly under his collarbone. She shifts the train of her dress so she can pull her knees towards her chest. The coldness of her tiny hands seeps through his shirt as they settle over his breastbone and she can feel the rapid flutter of his heartbeat thrumming through the tips of her fingers. He draws the coat back over them and wraps his arms around her. One arm rests one across her shoulders on top of the coat to ensure it stays tucked up against her. The other is under the coat, directly against her curled body, his large hand splayed across her exposed lower back like it somehow knows it belongs there.  

Mulder has to remind himself to breathe. Her soft hair is inches from his nose, the floral of her shampoo wafting towards him; he wants to bury himself in it.

“Of course, Dr. Scully,” he replies. “What else would it be for?”

The answer they both know hangs unwillingly in the air between them.

_11:26 PM_

The rumbling of his chest reverberates through her body as he enthusiastically expounds a dizzying array of complex theories. When she had asked him a few moments ago what he was doing here so late on New Year’s Eve himself, she’d expected a witty quip about psych profiles and serial killers not taking vacations, but instead found herself the audience of a sunflower seed fueled soliloquy on the inherently flawed nature of the Fermi Paradox and all twenty-one possible explanations for the lack of evidence of extraterrestrial lifeforms.

The soft weight of her body in his lap is making it hard to focus, very hard. He’s disconcerted by how familiar and right it feels with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. It’s been so long since he has held anyone like this, felt the warmth of physical human connection. He’d forgotten how much he misses it. Mulder struggles to keep a cohesive narrative as he continues to ramble. He’s sure he sounds insane at this point. Another thing he’d learned from that New England upbringing: blathering on about the intricacies of alien morphology doesn’t tend to impress the ladies.  

_Always living up to your nickname, aren’t you Spooky? Fantastic._

Scully really does try to pay attention to what he’s saying, but she’s constantly distracted by the pout of his lips wrapping themselves around words like ‘interstellar’, ‘Arecibo’, and ‘synchronous gauge’. His one hand idly trails over his coat, punctuated by sporadic gestures into the air to emphasize his thoughts, and she can feel his touch even through thick wool. She shifts and his arms instinctively tighten around her, the thumb of his other hand never breaking from its rhythmic sweeps across her the soft skin of her lower back.

“Are you warming up yet?” he breaks from his monologue to look down at her.

“I’m much better now, thanks,” she casts a small smile up at him.

Neither of them dares to move. The ceasing of the steady rise and fall of his chest tells her that she isn’t the only one who stopped breathing. She thinks she sees something flicker briefly in his eyes again before he pulls back and resumes talking aliens and neutrino signals.

_11:59 PM_

Mulder tips his wrist to look at the time, before extending the watch towards Scully. “Hey Dana, look, it’s almost midnight.”

“Really? We’ve been in here that long?” Scully peers at the watch face, shifting in his lap and flexing her ankles.

“The New Year shall be upon us in 10…9…8…7…” She tilts her head back to look at him. Her eyes catch his and do not waver, his face slowly lowering toward hers. He’s so close she can taste the salty sunflower tang of his warm breath. They know this is wrong, but are powerless to stop it. The unbreakable attraction of north and south poles pull them closer and closer; it’s simple physics. Or was it chemistry?

“3…2…1…”

With a sudden surge of reconnected electricity, the elevator car jolts back to life, breaking them from their spell. The force jerks them away from each other and Mulder tightens his grip on her to keep her from being thrown across the car.

“Are you okay?” His brow furrows again and Scully resists the compulsion to smooth the creases away with her lips.

“Yeah,” she stammers, unsure whether her heart is racing from their almost-kiss or the unexpected restart of the elevator. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

“I’m good.” He reluctantly releases her from his arms and stands, shrugging on his coat. She slides back into her heels and he offers a hand to help her up. The elevator sounds their arrival and the metal doors slide open. Her hand falls from his. Both know they will never speak of this again.

 

_January 1, 1992 12:01 AM_

Scully steps out of the elevator to the shouting of a familiar voice.

“Look, I know she’s here! She said she had to pick some files up and then was coming to meet me. And she never showed up! That was four hours ago. I know her car is still in the garage, so where is she?!”

Ethan is struggling with two security guards at the end of the hall, desperately trying to get past them. His face breaks with relief when he sees her coming down the hall.

“Dana!”

Scully flashes her badge to the guards and they release him with annoyed shakes of their heads. Ethan sprints the rest of the way down the hall and pulls her into his arms.

“Dana! Are you okay?! What happened? Where have you been?!”

“I’m fine, really. The power went out and I was stuck in the elevator with…” she turns to gesture towards Mulder, only to find that he is no longer there.

 

_12:02 AM_

Mulder takes the stairs two at a time back to his basement office, determined to find out everything he can about the enigmatic elevator partner currently consuming his thoughts. He combs through the FBI’s personnel database until her file appears on his computer screen. Dana Katherine Scully: 28, undergraduate degree in physics from the University of Maryland, medical degree from Stanford, and currently an instructor at the Academy. The intrigued smile on his face grows when he comes upon a copy of her senior thesis, ‘Einstein’s Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation’. He was right. She does know things. He tucks his face into the soft woolen collar of his coat; it still smells like her.

 

_March 6, 1992, 8:15 AM_

“Are you familiar with an agent named Fox Mulder?”

Dana Scully freezes in panic for the length of her skipped heartbeat before recovering quickly with a smile.

“Yes, I am.”

_What did they know? Had someone seen us? Did Fox Mulder say something about our completely platonic New Year’s elevator tryst? Surely there couldn’t be an FBI rule against huddling for warmth?_

“How so?”

“By reputation,” Scully hedges carefully, praying her face didn’t reveal anymore.

 

_8:21 AM_

Fox Mulder shuffles through slides on his desk, looking for best ones to illustrate the mysterious spate of unexplained deaths cropping up across the country, connected only by the strange raised marks on the victims’ backs and an unidentifiable substance in the surrounding tissue. When Division Chief Blevins had informed him of his new partner, it took everything in him not to cuss out loud. Of course it was her. He should have known she was too good to be true. Just like Diana had been. It wasn’t random coincidence or magnetic fate that had drawn her to his hallway that night. No, she had been sent there to spy on him, to debunk his work, to shut him down.

 

_8:33 AM_

The staccato clack of stilettos on tile floor echoes through the empty basement corridor of the Hoover Building. Scully clips briskly down the hall, her briefcase slung over her shoulder. When Blevins had informed her she had been assigned to the X-Files, with none other than her attractive elevator stranger, she thought for sure that it was some kind of joke. The serious unsmiling faces of the three men in the office told her otherwise. She arrives at the office door bearing no name.

_Would he say anything about that night? Will he even remember me?_

She hesitates for a moment.Willing her face to betray nothing, she takes a breath and forces a neutral expression. She raises her fist and knocks.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted,” his muffled voice comes through the door.

She opens the door to find him bent over his cluttered desk, carefully examining slides on a light tray. He’s surrounded by stacks of binders and files, manila folders stuffed to the brim with scrawled notes on errant papers; pictures of skulls and humanoid corpses adorn the walls, along with a prominent poster of a UFO flying over trees declaring ‘I Want to Believe’. The dim lights cast sallow shadows across his face when he turns his head to look at her, still all oversized glasses, gaudy tie, and floppy hair she wants to brush out of his eyes. His cool steady gaze offers no acknowledgement.

“Agent Mulder. I’m Dana Scully; I’ve been assigned to work with you.”

She extends her hand. When his skin meets hers, she could swear she’s been burned.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me the happiest clam in all the sea  
> You can also follow me on Tumblr [@realmofextremepossibility!](http://realmofextremepossibility.tumblr.com)


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